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User blog:Cfp3157/The Titanomachy: Vipers/Titans War Blog
August 18th, 2014. 3:30 PM An expensive hotel room in San Diego Christopher Salasco looked nervously at his watch, whilst wiping a bead of sweat. It'd been two months since Greer left, and the bastard had left him a crumbling empire. An attack from multiple fronts, and it was only a matter of time before he'd be left with nothing. With his businesses in the south of his empire being overshadowed by those such as that damned Bratva, he knew he couldn't go farther south. In the north, however, it was far worse. He knew he couldn't rely on the Omnia Venena or the Corps. to support him, he didn't trust them enough. Not like he could pay for their services anyway. But however, tonight, perhaps this could change. The majority of his manpower had been moved now, courtesy of the bugs. They'd also been kind enough to relinquish their debt a little bit. As far as Salasco was concerned, the Vipers had been given a clean slate. They've fulfilled most of their side of the deal so far, now it's my turn. Turning on his laptop, he began the Skype call. Three faces appeared on the screen; A young Caucasian boy with pale white hair wearing shades, another Caucasian that appeared to be in his early forties, and a large, bulky man wearing a black leather jacket and a wrestling mask. "Gentlemen, I know it's been a difficult transition over the last couple months. But now, it's time to show that this has been worth it. Alejandro, Nikolai, and Max, begin your assignments." Dormiv and Maxis nodded, logging off. All that was left on the screen was the Hispanic hitman, glaring underneath his mask at his boss. "So, Alejandro, how do you like your newest position as a member of the Inner Circle?" The hitman shrugged, logging off as well and rudely cutting off the conversation. "Fucking creep." ---- San Diego, 5:30 PM A lone Titan, armed with a scoped AR-15, stood watch over the newest drug shipment via the catwalks. Generally bored and exhausted, the Titan sat down against one of the railings, and pulled out a cigarette. "Comrade, cigarettes tend to be bad for you health." mentioned a Russian accent beside him. Startled, the Titan watched as Nikolai Orelov shove his shoe knife directly into his throat, kicking the dying gangster off of the catwalks. Satisfied, the Russian grabbed the rifle and peered through his scope. He watched as the three Cicada hired guns, as well as two of his best men, began to enter the rest of the shipping yard. Pop! Pop! Pop! Two Titan guards on patrol immediately fell dead as Orelov fired his new weapon into their skulls. A squad was guarding the shipment was just as easily gunned down as the Cicada/Viper group arrived. "Is the shipment secured?" "Yes, Mr. Orelov. Everything is good." Orelov stroked his small goatee, thinking about what he should do now. "Alright, take what you can and torch the rest." ---- Los Angles, 8:00 PM A shotty L.A. strip club is dark and crowded, with little to patrons attending. One mysterious compatriot enters, toting a Smith & Wesson. "Holy shit-" The bartender yelled, only to be riddled with bullets. The strippers and customers ran out screaming as the hitman jumped over the bar. Alejandro tore through the safe, finding what he needed. Smirking, he looked at the list of various hits the Titans had requested. This should be enough proof for La Policia. ---- Outcome: *Titans: 2 arrested, 9 dead, $9,000 worth of goods destroyed *Vipers: $200 worth of goods gained Category:Blog posts